


Stay

by TiyeTiye



Series: Ivar and Lisbet - 1920's AU [4]
Category: Keep Your Silence, Vikings (TV)
Genre: 1920's AU, Depression, Domestic Violence, F/M, Grief, Keep Your Silence x Vengeance is Mine crossover, Mourning, New York City, Prohibition AU, bootlegger au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-24 22:38:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14365176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiyeTiye/pseuds/TiyeTiye
Summary: Worried after not hearing from Ivar for too long, Lisbet seeks him out at his home and sees a new side of him for the first time.





	Stay

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Keep Your Silence](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10732503) by [livebynight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/livebynight/pseuds/livebynight). 



It was a bright spring day that could at best be called  _brisk_ , and Lisbet had been standing on the front stoop of the Lothbrok’s townhouse, alternating between pounding on the front door and ringing the bell for the better part of five minutes. Though the sky was clear, the wind was whipping angrily through the concrete and steel canyons of Manhattan, dragging its icy fingers along her collar and around her legs. Tugging her coat a bit closer and cursing herself for not bringing a scarf, she grit her teeth and pounded on the door again.

Finally, it swung open. A tall, thin man in an all-black suit stood before her, an annoyed look in his eyes and a sneer on his face as he sized her up and down.

“Is Ivar here?” Lisbet asked.

“Deliveries around the back,” the man spit through a mouth full of gold teeth. Then he slammed the door in her face.

Lisbet stood there frozen for a moment, her mouth open in shock. Then she growled in frustration and leaned over to ring the doorbell again, over and over, as fast as she could.

“Oh open the door you  _miserable_ —”

The door flew open again, revealing the same man in black. There was an unsettling look in his eyes now as he stepped closer, looming over Lisbet.

“Deliveries. Around. The. Back.” he said.

Lisbet held her ground, carefully schooling her face into a neutral expression as she looked up at him and hoped the man couldn’t hear the pounding of her heart.

“I’m not here to  _deliver_  something, I’m  _looking_  for Ivar.  _This_  is his address. Is he here? Or one of his brothers? Please, I need to see him.”

“You don’t  _need_  to do anything  _missy_. Now get gone.” The man stepped back and reached for the door to shut it again, but before he could Lisbet caught sight of a familiar figure in the entrance hall behind him.

“Ubbe!” she called and the oldest of Ivar’s brother’s stopped in his tracks. “Ubbe, it’s Lisbet!”

“Lis? What are you doing here?” Ubbe walked up and put a hand on the other man’s shoulder, drawing him away from the door. “It’s fine - I’ve got this,” he told him. The man in black flung another sneer at Lisbet, but mercifully disappeared back inside the house. Lisbet gave him enough time to get out of earshot before pouring out all her questions onto Ubbe.

“Is Ivar here? Is he alright? I haven’t seen him in two weeks and day before yesterday it was Hvitserk who came to get the rent at the store instead of Ivar, and Hvitserk wouldn’t tell me  _why_  and now—”

Ubbe held up his hands to slow her down. “He’s fine Lis, he….he just….he just hasn’t been feeling himself lately.”

“Why not? Can I see him? Please?!”

“It’s….complicated Lisbet.”

“ _Why?_ ”

Ubbe dragged a hand over his face and now Lisbet recognized that Ubbe didn’t look well either. His skin looked ashen, his usually finely combed hair looked rumpled and greasy, and there were deep bags under his eyes, like he’d gone more than one night without sleep.

“Last week was the one-year anniversary of our mother’s death—her murder, actually. Her and Ivar were very close, and he’s been taking it hard. Real hard. He wasn’t there when she was killed—blames himself for her death.” Ubbe gave a sardonic chuckle. “Thinks if he’d been there he might have been able to do something to save her. He….hasn’t been the easiest to deal with lately. He hasn’t been himself.”

“I don’t care. Can I see him?  _Please_  can I come in Ubbe?”

Ubbe sighed, but stood back out of the doorway and let Lisbet through.

“Alright,” he said. “Just don’t blame me if you don’t like what you find. His room is down the hall - last door on the right.”

Lisbet gave him a grateful smile as she came in out of the wind, pulling off her hat and unbuttoning her coat as she crept down the wood paneled hall. The house felt strangely silent and lifeless around her, like it was holding its breath. Her footsteps echoing off the floorboards were the only sounds that came to her ears.

The door to Ivar’s room was heavy, thick old wood bound in brass, and it creaked and moaned as Lisbet slowly opened it. It was nearly dark inside, with just a few slivers of light fighting their way through the gaps in the thick curtains covering the windows. She could just make out the shapes of a desk, a wardrobe, and an enormous bed through the gloom.

“Ivar?” Lisbet called softly. A shape groaned and stirred on the bed.

“Go away,” it said.

“Ivar, it’s me.” Lisbet said, carefully making her way into the room.

“Go away Lisbet.” Ivar said.

“Ivar, please…. I’ve been so worried about you—”

“I said  ** _GO AWAY!_** ”

Lisbet ducked just in time to avoid the shape that came flying through the air at her, and when it shattered against the wall behind her, all her resolve flew away. To her burning shame, she followed it out the door and fled, frightened tears streaming down her face as she ran down the hall, through the front door, and back out onto the freezing Manhattan street.  

———————————————————————————————————————————

The next afternoon saw Lisbet back in place on the Lothbrok’s front steps, ringing the doorbell and clutching a large handbag to her chest with her free hand. Thankfully, it was Ubbe who opened the door this time, surprise written plain across his face at the sight of her.

“Can I come in please?” Lisbet asked, keeping her chin up and trying her best to look determined.

Ubbe sighed and shook his head. He still looked  _terrible_.

“Sure. Come in.” He stepped back from the threshold, holding the door open and waving her through.

“You gonna be alright this time?” Ubbe asked as she walked towards the hallway to Ivar’s room.

“I’ll be fine,” she said, looking back at him. “I….I know what to expect now.”

“Good luck,” Ubbe called after her.

It was quiet and still as Lisbet made her way down the hall, and when she opened the door, she was met by the same dim light filtering through the curtains. The room stank with the smell of raw whiskey and unwashed body. She could make out Ivar’s shape on the bed, still lying in the same place he’d been yesterday. Lisbet doubted he’d gotten out of bed at all.

“Hello Ivar,” Lisbet said, carefully making her way inside, headed for the windows. “I….I’ve come back to see you again.”

“Go away.” Ivar muttered.

“No. Not this time.” Lisbet reached out and grabbed a handful of the thick velvet curtains. “If you’re going to throw something at me again, I’d like to see it this time, so I’m going to give us a bit of light.”

“ _No!_ ”

“Just a bit,” Lisbet said, trying to reassure him. “Just enough for me to see you.”

“I don’t want you to see me. Not now.”

Lisbet paused, racking her brain trying to think of a way to reassure him some more. In the end, she went with what was simplest.

“It’s alright,” she said, and drew the curtain back.

The slim bar of light that fell into the room revealed a wreck of a man gazing back at her. The last time Lisbet had seen him he’d seemed unusually preoccupied and withdrawn, and in the two weeks since their last meeting it seemed like Ivar had done nothing but lay in that bed. He was pale and thinner than he should have been, with heavy dark circles under his eyes, and hair falling in greasy, lank waves over his forehead. He barely met her eyes for a moment before rolling over, turning his back on her and pulling the sheet over himself.

“Go away.” he said again. Lisbet ignored him this time.

“I brought you something,” she said, putting her handbag down on his desk and pulling out its contents - a folded copy of that day’s New York Times, a worn-out book, and a small paperboard box tied with twine. “I got you a paper, because I know how much you like to know everything that’s going on all the time and I though you might have missed some while you were….while you were here. The Senators look like they’re going to have a good season this year.” Ivar hadn’t moved from his position on the bed, but Lisbet could tell that he wasn’t asleep, so she kept going. “And I….I went to the library and got a copy of  _Frankenstein_ for you- I remembered that time in the park when you were telling me about it, but you couldn’t remember everything that happened in the middle with the old man, so I thought you might want to re-read it…..or I could read it to you….if you want.” She put the book down and placed her hand on the little box. It was still warm underneath her palm. “And I went to that bakery down the block from my building that you like and got you a slice of pecan pie. I thought you…..I thought you might like that.” There was still no reaction from the man on the bed. “Please Ivar…..is there…..is there anything I can do? I want to help.”

“Just go away Lisbet. Leave me alone. Like you did yesterday.” Ivar’s voice was thick and hoarse.

“Ivar, I’m not going to do that. I….I shouldn’t have left you alone yesterday either.” He didn’t answer that and he still wouldn’t look at her.  

“Alright…..” Lisbet looked at the things she’d brought, laid out neatly on Ivar’s desk. “ _Frankenstein_  it is then.” She picked up the book, but instead of taking a seat at the desk, she slipped out of her shoes and padded across the carpet to the massive bed. Ivar tensed when he felt her climb in and sit beside him, but didn’t do anything to stop her. Leaning back agains the headboard, Lisbet cracked open the book, angled it to try and get the best light, and began to read.

“Letter One. To Mrs. Saville, England. St. Petersburg, December 11th…”

Lisbet kept at it, keeping her voice as soothing and gentle as possible. For the first few pages, she merely sat beside Ivar, letting him grow accustomed to her presence, to her closeness. She could see his face out of the corner of her eye, still wide awake and scowling and stubbornly turned away from her. As she began the first real chapter, she re-balanced the book in her lap so she could reach over and gently lay the palm of her left hand on the hard muscles of his shoulder. She felt him tense up again, but didn’t move away, beginning to rub slow, gentle circles over his back and continuing to read as she felt the tension slowly drain out of him.

Lisbet kept reading, telling Ivar all about Dr. Frankenstein and his monster, trailing her hand up and down his back and occasionally reaching up to run her fingers through his hair for a few pages. After reading for nearly two hours, she paused for a moment to take a drink of water from a glass left on Ivar’s bedside table, and nearly dropped it when he abruptly rolled over and threw his arms around her waist. He didn’t say anything, didn’t even look up at her, just lay there with his head pillowed on her thighs, clutching her tightly, all of his earlier tension back in full force.

Lisbet put the book down now, laying both hands on Ivar’s trembling shoulders. Gently, she ran her hands across the skin of his bare back, up and down, up and down, trailing her fingertips along the smooth lines of muscle, out across his shoulders, up through his hair. After a moment, a great heaving sob tore through Ivar’s body, and Lisbet felt a growing patch of dampness through the fabric of her skirt.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out.

“Oh Ivar…”

Lisbet held him as he sobbed, clutching him to her as best she could and making soothing little sounds. She kept rubbing his back, kept stroking his hair, until he could weep no more and went silent and still in her arms. By now the beam of light through the window had all but faded, and Lisbet hoped that Ivar might finally have been able to fall asleep. Gently, she took hold of one forearm and slowly pulled it away from herself, but instantly it snapped back into place.

“Don’t go. Please stay.” Ivar was looking up at her now, his red-rimmed eyes filled with a desperate pleading. “Please don’t leave me Lisbet.”

Lisbet thought for a moment. It was getting dark, the time she normally would have needed to be getting home. But she’d told her father that she’d actually be going over to Sofia’s that evening to help with some dressmaking work she’d had fallen behind on. She’d told her father that Sofia had fallen so far behind that she might need to spend the night to help her friend meet her deadline.  _Technically_ , Lisbet didn’t need to go anywhere. She had time. She could stay.

Lisbet smiled down at Ivar, smoothing the hair back from his forehead.

“I’m not going anywhere my darling. It’s alright. I’ll stay.”


End file.
